


Out of Place

by YappiChick



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Snippets, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 12:38:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9896813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YappiChick/pseuds/YappiChick
Summary: A sinking feeling settled in his stomach as the reality of his situation settled over him.  His mind was ready to fight, but the body he was trapped in could barely survive.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, for the past five(!) years I have been trying to mull over this idea of John needing to jump through various timelines to save the universe. Sadly, it is really no more than five different AUs thinly connected. I really, really want to try to make this a cohesive story some day, but for now, you get a snippet that could, for all intents and purposes, stand on its own (with some vague reference to a mission).
> 
> tl;dr Our Master Chief is jumping through random timelines. This is one of the stories.

It was completely dark.

No, John realized as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, it was almost completely dark.

He looked around, using the sliver of light that came from under a door.  He couldn’t ascertain much; the room he was in was small --no more than three meters in each direction.  There was a bucket in the corner.  Based on the smell, John decided he didn’t want to explore its contents.  

Knowing his sense of sight could provide him no answer, John reached his hand out and felt the wall in front of him.  It was cold and metal, smooth except for one corner when he felt 27 deep grooves in the wall.  On the floor under the strange markings, he found some sort of small tool --a modified eating utensil, perhaps-- and knew what the markings meant.

Had it been days? Months?

Years?

It wasn’t until John attempted to stand that he realized how atrophied his muscles had become.  Standing for a handful of seconds caused his thighs to quiver with exertion.

The other John had been here for a long time.

He sunk to his knees and leaned against the wall.  He ran his hands over his arms, noting the unfamiliar scars.  The shirt he wore was worn and torn, barely hanging off his uncharacteristically frail body.  He carefully lifted up the ruined material and felt the dozens of scars spread over his chest and stomach.

A sinking feeling settled in his stomach as the reality of his situation settled over him.

His mind was ready to fight, but the body he was trapped in could barely survive.

He wondered where Cortana was.  Subconsciously, he reached up to feel the neural implant and frowned when he felt nothing but smooth skin.

Was he not a Spartan or part of the UNSC?  And more importantly, how did the Librarian expect for him to find the portion of the Cure if he was trapped inside this cell?

He slid his hand from the back of his neck to his left wrist.  The implant was still in there.  He pressed down on the hard disc as if it could offer him an explanation.

A sound from the outside caused him to tense.  He readied his weak body for a confrontation, but the only thing that entered the room was a tray which held a meager amount of food and drink.

In the dim light, John reached out and touched the food.  It was foreign and he wasn’t sure he could stomach it based on the stench.  Before he could allow himself to think that way, he stopped.  If he was going to attempt an escape, he would need whatever energy he could get.

He stuck his finger in the gooey pile and lifted it to his mouth.  The pungent odor nearly caused him to gag, but he forced himself to put the food in his mouth and swallowed it down as quickly as he could.

Perhaps eating wasn’t that important, he mused.

He brought his hands down and felt around the rest of the tray.  A hardened biscuit. A pouch full of some sort of liquid.  He took those two items off the plate before sliding the tray back outside, unable to take the smell of the rest of the food.

Less than a minute later, the door swung open.  An Elite stormed in.

John pushed himself to stand, but his muscles were too weak to move quickly.  The Elite reached out and grabbed him before he had a chance to straighten.

“Is our food not unacceptable to you now?” the Elite shouted, pulling John forward.  “Do you think after so long that you can disregard what is presented to you?”

John kept silent and tried to look past the hulking Sangheili to figure out some way of escape.  

The Elite reached up and grabbed him by his neck.  “Answer me.”

He may not have had his former strength, or freedom for that matter, but there was one thing John still had: his stubbornness.

He remained silent.

The first blow to his face was not completely unexpected.  However, without his armor to protect him, John was stunned by how badly the punch hurt.  The darkness of unconsciousness already was looming.

The next punch --a blow to his ribcage-- knocked the wind out of John.  He gagged and sputtered as he tried to catch his breath.  Before he could recover, the Elite threw him against the wall.  John’s skull smacked against the smooth metal.

Now, the lure of unconsciousness was impossible to ignore.

John tried to kept his eyelids open as long as possible, but the weight of them were too heavy to fight.  The last thing he saw was the Sangheili's foot coming towards his face.

Then, the world went dark.

/*-/*-/*-

John wasn’t sure how much time had passed.  Long enough for the blood on his face to dry; he carefully touched his bruised body and wondered if his obstinance would lead to the death of this body.

What would happen then? Would he die too or had the Librarian planned for such an event?

He listened for any movement outside the door, but it was silent.  The only sound he heard was the roar in his skull.  The only thing he felt was the pain.

So much pain.

Once again, he was pulled under the darkness.

/*-/*-/*-/*-/-*

John registered the sound of voices before he was able to open his eyes.

“You guys don’t consider this maltreatment?” a voice shouted.

It took a second for John’s mind to recognize the voice.  A voice that he hadn’t heard in decades.  His heart spiked as his brain came up with an impossible answer.

It was...

“...Sam?” His voice was barely more than a whisper. Despite the swelling on his face, John forced his eyes to look at the man who was somehow in the room with him.

At that moment, the room went completely silent.  Then, a man knelt down beside John and took off his helmet.  “Yeah, John, it’s me.”

His face was similar to how John remembered it, but he was older, more war wearied than it had when John last saw him.

“Am I dead?” It seemed like the only possible explanation to John’s muddled mind.

“No. But, that’s not saying too much given your current condition.” He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “We’re getting you out of this hellhole.”  He looked up.  “Isn’t that right, Arbiter?”

“I gave you my word that all prisoners that were captured would be released,” said the Arbiter.  

“And it wasn’t until the last penal colony that we found the Chief.  Pretty damn convenient if you ask me.”

The Arbiter didn’t reply.

Sam pressed his lips together and blew a long breath through his nose.  

“What happened?” John asked.  “How did I get here?”

Sam frowned.  “How much do you remember?”

John shook his head.  He couldn’t tell Sam why he was there, but he couldn’t lie to him.   “I don’t know how I got here.” It was the truth.

Sam shot the Arbiter a nasty look.  “We’ll debrief you on the ship.  Think you can walk?”

If it was anyone else, John would have been ashamed of his current condition, but this was Sam, his brother.  “Probably not.”

Sam gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.  “Good thing I’m here to give you a hand then.”  He placed his helmet back on his head and held out a hand that John took.  Sam was probably the only human tall enough to support John as he straightened.

John wheezed as the pain of the earlier attack pressed upon him.  

“Don’t worry, John.  We’ve got a state of the art med bay on the Infinity. They’ll get you patched up in no time,” Sam assured him as they walked out into the hall.

John squinted in the corridor’s harsh light.  Sam muttered an apology before opening a comm channel.  “Cortana, I’ve got the Package.”

John tried to mask his relief at hearing the familiar name. If Cortana was there, then he would have a chance to finish his objective before it was too late.

He slumped against Sam’s shoulder as they rounded a corner. Sam paused his walk for a fraction of a second. “Lower the cabin’s lights to twenty percent and get ready to get out of here.”

John couldn’t hear her reply, but Sam cast him a quick glance.  “He’ll be back on the battlefield in no time.”

He followed Sam’s lead as they made their way to the surface.  John’s legs trembled, but he was determined to make it back to the transport on his own two feet.

Sam stopped again, letting John catch his breath.  “It’s not much farther. Cortana and her team will be waiting for us right outside,” he encouraged.

John drew from the strength his friend was extending and pushed forward.  Cortana was there. And so was the reason why he was there.

He could see another door down the corridor. “Who’s Cortana?” he asked.

“Cortana is...” Sam trailed off.  “...Cortana.  You’ll meet her soon enough.”

Sam was true to his word.  Less than five minutes later, they approached a large door that opened to the outside.  Not more than fifty feet away, a Pelican was waiting.

The door to the blood tray opened.  Several Marines and a woman stood inside, waiting for John and Sam.

Cortana.

John was grateful he had already seen one version of Cortana in a human form; he wasn’t sure this body would have been able to handle the shock of seeing her as a person rather than an avatar. She stood on the edge of the platform, her black hair slightly longer than she had it when John last saw her on the Composer. Her eyes trailed him and Sam closely; her gaze didn't waver as they stepped in the Pelican's shadow.

Cortana walked past the group of Marines to the two men.  Her eyebrows scrunched forward and a deep frown turned her lips downward. She shot Sam a repulsed look. “I thought the Arbiter said that he was being held in ‘fair and humane’ conditions.”

John could feel Sam's body tense as they took the final steps towards the Pelican. “Don’t get me started, Ana,” Sam warned.  “Not until I’m far enough away from this planet.”

Ana? A foreign feeling started in John’s stomach and worked its way into his chest.

Was he jealous?

No. He was still in shock of everything that had happened. That was all.

Cortana looked John up and down.  In his current condition, with no armor and just a ratty shirt and pants, he felt very, very exposed.  “Master Chief,” she greeted smoothly.  “I’m Cortana. And you have no idea how good it is to finally meet you.”


End file.
